Repercussions of Concussions
by IchigoMARS
Summary: Post-War: -Malfoy's do NOT refer to Harry Potter as 'adorable', and do NOT comment on his 'luscious skin tone'... so why does Draco feel the need to do exactly that?-•H/D•


Author: Ichigomars

Title: Repercussions of Concussions

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling... except the plot.

Author's Note: This hasn't quite been beta-ed yet, for the sole reason that... I do not have a beta. So, if anyone out there would like to become my beta, it would be much appreciated!

Now... on with the first chapter!

Chapter One: It Explains Everything...

It was a winter day; the best kind of winter day, actually. It was the kind of day where the sun shines brightly, high in a nearly cloudless sky, and the air is so crisp and cool that it makes everything look and feel more clean and vibrant than usual. Harry Potter lay flat on his back, arms limp and relaxed at his sides, his legs spread apart. His gloveless hands had gone numb some time ago and his cheeks had a childish rosy tint to them; he didn't care though, he actually kind of liked the cold.

He stared languidly at the intensely blue sky, not really thinking about anything in particular. The Harry Potter that spent his days constantly worrying about how he was going to find the next Horcrux, or how he was going to kill Voldemort, was no more. Now, he was Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World. Voldemort was gone for good, Hogwarts was fully restored, and he could finally be the normal teenager that he always wanted to be. Well, as normal as one can be with having spent over a decade stuck in a house in which he was treated like a slave, being forced to fight with a derange madman on numerous occasions, and having to deal with a never ending onslaught of first years begging for his autograph and picture. Okay, so, he still wasn't a very normal teenager. So, maybe he really was thinking about something after all.

You would think that after all Harry had been through, people would have finally let him be; but, no. If anything, everyone bugged him even more than before! Honestly, it seemed like he never got to be alone anymore. Ron and Hermione had finally gotten together, he had broken up with Ginny, and yet they all seemed to have an incessant need to be around him at _all _times. If he didn't know any better, he'd think they didn't trust him to be on his own or something annoying like that. They pretty much went wherever he went, no matter where he was going. -"Oh, Harry, are you going to the library to do homework? Why don't I come?"- "Oh, Harry, you're going for a walk? I'll come with you."- "Oh, Harry, you're going to the bathroom? I'll come too!"-Seriously, it was getting to be a little much.

So, when Harry actually did get a chance to be on his own, he usually spent his time staring into space, and basking in the silence that is a place without people in it; which is exactly what he was doing, sprawled out on the ground. He didn't how long he had been there; lying in the middle of the snow covered Quidditch pitch. It had been just after breakfast when he told Ron and Hermione that he was 'going to study' and couldn't go to Hogsmeade with them. Yes, he had been forced to _lie _to his friends in order to finally be alone… how very sad.

Harry sighed, and quickly cleared his mind. Thinking about how wrong he had been when he'd thought that things would change after defeating Voldemort was never a good idea. It made him all depressed, and he hated it. Harry sighed again, and closed his eyes to savour the warm sun on his face, and the cold air blowing on his face. _'Winter's definitely my favourite season."_ Harry thought and smiled.As usual, though, the rare moment of happiness was ruined. Harry heard the sound of crunching footsteps that grew louder and eventually stopped at his side. Whoever stood there was stopping the warm sun from reaching his face. Harry opened his eyes.

"What the hell are you doing out here, Potter?" Draco Malfoy sneered down at him. Harry couldn't help but scowl. 'F_igures that Malfoy, of all people, would ruin my_ only _time alone.' _Harry rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated at his never-ending bad luck. '_One day. All I wanted was _one_bloody day of peace and quiet. Really, is that too much to ask for?' _

"What does it look like I'm doing, Malfoy?" Harry's eyes flicked toward his sprawled out body and back to Draco's face.

"How should I know what the bloody hell you're doing? You've been lying there all day! You haven't moved since I left the school _six_hours ago. For a moment I thought you had _finally_ gone and died, but then I saw you breathing and, unfortunately, that happy thought was crushed." Draco paused. "Wait." He closed his eyes and mentally slapped himself, "Ugh. Why the hell am I telling you this?"

"Yes, why the hell are you?" Harry smirked, ignoring the remark about him dying. Malfoy always made fun of his odd knack of cheating death. Really, it got kind of old after a while. Draco glared at him balefully.

"Get that look off your face, Potter," he said through clenched teeth, pointing straight in Harry's face, "And, how the hell should I know? Now answer the bloody question, Scarhead. Why the hell have you been lying here all day?" Draco repeated, "Finally lost it, have you? Or did the Mudblood and Weasel finally decide to get rid of you or something?" Harry looked away, the smirk erased from his face, and sat up. It was Draco's turn to smirk.

"No, I haven't _lost it. _And, no, _Hermione _and_Ron _did not get rid of me." Harry growled and stood up. He angrily wiped off the snow from his jeans. "Why do you care, anyway, Malfoy?"

Draco scoffed. "I obviously don't care." Of course he didn't. Malfoy's don't care. No, he just wanted to bug Harry, and clearly, he was doing a fine job.

"Then why are you here? I don't see Crabbe or Goyle, so clearly you're not going to fight me." Harry crossed his arms across his chest and waited for Malfoy to explain the reason for his extremely unwanted visit.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Draco spat.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You know full well that you couldn't take me on your own."

Draco had turned an odd shade of red. "I can so fight you!" he snapped.

Harry stared at him. "Right, Malfoy," he turned his back and started walking away. "You keep telling yourself that!" He called back.

"Don't walk away from me!" Draco yelled. "I'm warning you, Potter!"

Harry shook his head, and kept on walking. A few seconds later, he heard a low growl and Malfoy's angry footsteps coming up from behind him. He turned, fully prepared to flip him the bird and tell him to fuck off, but only got halfway. Malfoy's fist was already flying toward his face, and connecting with his jaw. Harry stumbled back and cursed.

"Jesus, Malfoy!" Harry yelled. "What the hell was that?" He glared at Draco and gingerly touched his throbbing jaw.

Draco smirked. "I warned you, didn't I? And you thought I couldn't take you."

Harry didn't even pause to think about it before flying through the air and full-out tackling the Slytherin to the ground. Fists began flying in every direction.

0OooO0

"What do you think Harry's doing now?"

Ron and Hermione sat across from each other at a table in The Three Broomsticks. They had spent their day strolling through Hogsmeade, hand in hand, and entering a shop every now and then. This was their last stop before they planned to head back to the school. Girlfriend and boyfriend each had a glass of Butterbeer sitting in front of them. Ron was staring hard into his glass, and Hermione was rooting through her shopping bags, looking for a book she'd just bought.

"Doing homework, like he said he would be doing." Hermione answered distractedly. Abruptly, she stopped her searching. "Ha! Found it." Hermione beamed and held up a copy of 'Hogwart's: A History'. She immediately began looking through it.

Ron rolled his eyes and ignored her. Honestly, she had to have at _least_ ten copies of the thing. "Bloody hell, 'Mione. It's been almost…" Ron glanced at the large wizard's clock on the wall behind the bar, "seven hours since we left him. He'd have to be daft to have spent his whole day doing homework." Ron wrinkled his nose. "Honestly, who in their right mind-"

"Don't you dare finished that sentence, Ronald." Hermione slammed her book shut, and glared at Ron. She leaned forward and folded her hands on the table. "There is nothing wrong with wanting to spend some time on school-work, and you know it."

"Okay, fine. You're right. But, really… this is _Harry_ we're talking about. He would never-"

"Alright," Hermione cut him off again. "He's not doing homework. So, what else is there for him to possibly do?" Hermione paused, and got a far-away look in her eyes. "If he would just get back together with Ginny…" she trailed off.

"Face it, 'Mione, you know that's not happening." Ron shook his head, and took a swig of his Butterbeer.

"I know. But… he just seems so lonely!" Hermione exclaimed. "And, Ginny, he knows Ginny loves him, and I thought he loved her too! It just doesn't make any sense at all." Hermione angrily tugged on her strand of her hair. Clearly, she didn't like the idea of not being able to comprehend and give reason for Harry's complete lack of social willingness. Wow. Hermione Granger… didn't have an answer for something? What was the world coming to?

"Yeah," Ron nodded solemnly, "I don't get it, either."

"I thought he'd be happier when the war was over. But, instead it's like he's completely changed." Hermione's face took on a defeated look, and she none-too-gently put her head in her hands. "Everything's just so different. I don't know what to do anymore," she mumbled. Ron noticed a hint of resignation in his girlfriend's tone and raised his eyebrows. "Lupin's gone, and Tonks is as well… and Malfoy. Malfoy's back even after what he did." Hermione scowled and dropped her head into her arms.

Ron placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, 'Mione. If there's one thing that will never change in Harry, it's his hatred for Malfoy…" Ron assured her. "Malfoy will never stop being an annoying git, and Harry will never stop hating him for it…" he smiled.

Hermione lifted her head, sighed, and grabbed Ron's hand. "I know I don't say this much…" she paused, "well, I don't think I've ever said this… but, I think you're right," she said. Ron nodded and took his hand back.

"Of course I'm right," he laughed. "Now, let's go. We have to be back before dinner."

0OooO0

Harry's head lazily rolled to the left and rested on his shoulder. Malfoy was sprawled out only an arms length away from him, letting out raspy breaths of air. Both of their chests heaved. They had just spent the last half hour thoroughly beating the shit out of one another. Splatters of blood now decorated the white snow around them. Harry could see his hat and scarf lying just beside Draco's head, and he was pretty sure that the something he could feel under his back was one of Malfoy's gloves. He tried to reach under and move it, but only got half way before his shoulder gave a painful throb.

"Owwww…" Harry whined. He hurt everywhere. Malfoy turned at the noise.

"Alive, then, are you Potter?" Draco asked. Harry could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Shut up, ferret-boy," he glared at the side of Draco's face. And, Draco, in turn, stuck a foot out and kicked his knee from the side. Harry hissed. "Jesus!"

Draco wanted to laugh at Harry's pain, but instead, gingerly poked at his rib-cage. He was pretty sure he'd been head-butted there a few times, and didn't think laughing feel the nicest at the moment.

"I hurt all over," Harry groaned, and sat up. He noticed that, miraculously, his glasses were still on his face.

"Good," Draco said, and sat up as well, wincing and gently touching a bloody lip. They both turned to face each other and saw just how much damage they'd done. There was a slight pause, where nothing was said, and they only stared. Then, Harry burst out laughing.

Draco stared, his mouth open just slightly. He hadn't seen Potter laugh like that in… oh, what the hell… so, Draco had really never seen Harry laugh like he was now. He honestly didn't know what to do. Angry Potter, he could understand… but, smiling, happy Potter…? Draco's mind couldn't quite grasp the situation. They'd just kicked the crap out of each other, and Harry was laughing? It wasn't just a laugh-laugh; this was full out pointing and failed attempts at hiding gasp-like snorts too. What the hell was so funny? '_Sweet Merlin,'_he thought, '_is this the freaking Twilight Zone…_?'

"Potter…?" Draco finally interrupted Harry's loud laughter. Harry paused and caught his breath. A smirk slowly crept onto his bloodied face.

"You look like shit…" Harry finally said. Draco sneered. That's what all of the laughter was for; his battered appearance?

"So do you," he shot back, childishly. "And it's all my doing. I told you I could take you, Potter," Draco said haughtily and slowly tried to stand, wincing a bit in the process. Harry was right behind him, moving as equally slow.

"Whatever," Harry mumbled, attempting to brush off his snow covered trousers with a numb hand. He quickly gave up, though, and looked over at Draco.

They stood facing each other; Draco, leaning heavily on his left foot, and Harry, gently cradling his right wrist. It really had been a good match. They both sported split lips, bloody noses, and soon to be black eyes. Draco also noted a large gash above Harry's left eye, mostly likely the result of the family crested ring he currently wore on his hand. They'd kicked, punched, and kneed each other wherever was open, and could already feel the bruises forming. Yepp, they were going to be hurting tomorrow.

0OooO0

Ron and Hermione arrived back at the school earlier than expected. There was a little over a half hour before dinner started.

They took their time heading up to the Common Room, fully expecting to see Harry cooped up there, doing nothing. Instead, when they climbed through the portrait hole, they were greeted by a room full of excited Gryffindor's showing each other the things they had gotten in Hogsmeade. People were huddle in groups around the room laughing and eating sweets from Honeydukes. Neville and Ginny were by the fire place chatting animatedly, and Seamus and Dean were in the far corner playing a game of chess. Harry was no where in sight. Ron glanced at Hermione, wondering if she too noticed that he wasn't there. Hermione scanned the room a second time, and turned to Ron when she felt his eyes on her.

"Go check the dormitories, and I'll ask Ginny if she knows where he is." she said. Ron nodded and slowly made his way to the stairs.

Hermione dropped her bags by a chair, and wandered over to where Ginny and Neville sat.

"Hey, Ginny, Neville," Hermione greeted them. Neville smiled brightly.

"We were just talking about Herbology! Professor Sprout gave me this-"

"Sorry Nev," Hermione apologized for interrupting him. "But, can I talk to Ginny for a second?" Neville looked a little bewildered for a moment, before nodding, and shyly waving good-bye to Ginny.

"Bye, Nev!" Ginny waved back enthusiastically. She then turned to Hermione. "So, what's up?"

"Have you seen Harry?" Hermione asked. Ginny looked a little confused.

"No. I haven't seen him since yesterday, actually. I thought he went to Hogsmeade with you and Ron," she said.

"Oh, well, he didn't. He said he was going to stay back to do homework." Hermione ran a hand through her hair. "So, are you sure you didn't see him in here before you left? He didn't even say good-morning or anything like that?"

"Nope," Ginny shook her head. "Like I said before, I haven't _seen_ him since yesterday, let alone spoken to him…" she trailed off. Ginny looked a little disappointed. She and Harry hadn't been talking very much at all since they'd broken up for the second time since the sixth year incident. Hermione felt a little bad. She put a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"Oh, Ginny… it'll be okay. He'll come around. Things will be back to normal soon… you'll see." Hermione reassured her.

Ginny sighed. "I hope so."

Ron came back from the boys' dorms. He offered a quick hello to his sister before turning to Hermione.

"He wasn't upstairs, but Padma says she and Pavarti saw him on the Quidditch pitch when they were coming back to the school," Ron said.

"Flying… in this weather?" Hermione knew Harry loved to fly, but it was freezing out! He could catch a cold.

"Nah," Ron shook his head, "She said he was just… lying out there."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed. "Why?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't know. Let's go find him, and ask."

They grabbed their discarded jackets and headed out to the Quidditch pitch.

0OooO0

Harry cleared his throat, "So… "He looked at Draco expectantly, waiting for him to say something.

Silence was the only thing that answered.

"Right, then. I'm going to walk away now," Draco stared at Harry blankly. "You're not going to attack me again, are you?" Harry asked. "'Cause I'm kind of hungry, and I think it's almost dinner…" His stomach gave a well-timed rumble, and he looked away sheepishly.

Draco rolled his eyes, "I beat the crap out of the freaking Golden Boy, and all he's worried about is dinner? Not even a thought about the fact that I now have something over him. No, all your thoughts are on food, food, food." Draco crossed his arms and sneered, "God, Pothead, you really have to stop hanging around the Weasel. What's next… gonna start getting all hot over the Mudblood? I'm not so sure the girl-Weasel would appreciate that very much." Draco smirked.

"Oh, sod off, Malfoy. And, for gods-sake, I'm not with Ginny! It can, and will not happen!" Harry yelled, totally ignoring the fact that Malfoy had just called his best friend a derogatory name.

Draco made a mental note. He raised an eyebrow and Harry immediately coloured. "My, my, Potter, that's a touchy subject. Did the lowly girl-weasel actually reject the Golden Boy?"

Harry spluttered. "What the- No!- Me?- But- Huh?-God no!" He stopped trying to put together a coherent sentence, resorting to angrily ruffling his hair repeatedly.

Draco watched the pathetic display with satisfaction. "English, Potter. Speak it."

Harry quickly stopped his frantic movements and dropped his hands. He looked kind of maniacal, with his insanely tousled hair and what was supposed to be a sizzling death glare aimed at the blonde boy. His slightly swollen lip and bruised eye didn't help either. Draco desperately tried to suppress a laugh. _'God, that's priceless!' _Draco covered his smile with a hand. _'Really, though, is that look supposed to scare me? It's more adorable than anything…' _Draco mentally killed himself in a desperate attempt to erase the fact that he just referred to Harry- freaking-Potter has 'adorable'.

"I'm not dating Ginny, because _I_ don't like her like that," Harry explained slowly, enunciated each word carefully. There was a long pause. Harry adjusted his glasses and waited for Malfoy to respond.

Draco could feel the blush on his cheeks, and was trying to figure out a way to cover it up without looking like a fool. Wear the hell had his scarf gone? If he just find it and wrap it around his face… wait, no. That would look too suspicious. What to do, what to do? He glanced over at Harry, who looked more than a little annoyed. Draco quickly brought a hand to his non-bruised cheek. He could feel the warm blood that had settled there, and knew that his face was probably bright red. Had Potter noticed? Did he know he had just called him adorable? Oh, god… how he hated being so pale. If only he had nice tanned skin like Potter's… '_How does he even manage to keep that nice skin tone in the winter, anyway_?' Draco wondered. '_Sweet-Mother-of Merlin! What the fuck am I thinking?_' Draco flushed an even darker shade. He had no clue where the hell his random Potter-thoughts had come from, but they were just making his situation worse.

Draco glanced up at Potter again. He had a slight look of concern on his face. Wait, what?

"Uh… Malfoy?" Harry asked cautiously. The Slytherin looked like he might pass out at any second.

"What?" Draco snapped.

Harry looked taken aback. "Is there something wrong? You're all red. You look like you're heating up or something." Harry poked Draco's forehead roughly. He was sweating profusely. How odd. It was like, negative 5 degrees out.

Draco panicked at the touch, and roughly pushed Harry away. "Who said you could touch me, Potter?" Draco demanded.

This was getting out of control. Malfoy's didn't refer to Potter's as 'adorable', and did call a _male's_skin tone 'nice'. It was the cold. Yes. He thought the cold was making him crazy. And the fact that he'd probably been punched in the head a couple times. _'I have a concussion…' _Draco decided.

"What's the matter with you, then? You look like you have a fever. I think you might be sick." Harry said, "Maybe we should go inside now," he suggested.

Draco looked astounded. "Why do you sound like you care, Potter?" Draco immediately turned suspicious. He couldn't remember if he'd hit Potter in the head or not.

"Uh…" Harry looked confused. "I, uh… I don't know."

Draco's rolled his eyes. His face had returned to normal now that he had found a sufficient excuse for his irrational thoughts about Harry. "How eloquent of you Potter," Draco drawled. "Whatever. If you can't give me a reason for you random motherly act, then I guess we're done here," Draco finally turned around and began limping back toward the castle. "But, next time I see you, Potter, I expect an answer!" he called over his shoulder. "And tell the Weasel and Mudblood that it's not cool to eavesdrop! Honestly, some friends you have, Potter! Can't even give you some privacy…" Draco's voice slowly died down, and Harry watched him walk away, mouth slightly ajar.

Hermione and Ron stepped out from behind the goal post they had been listening from.

'_What the hell just happened?' _Harry was confused. Ron and Hermione were spying on him now? He was worrying about Malfoy, showing him compassion, and not able to explain why? Things had just changed, and they had changed fast. He didn't even know what to do. Be mad at Malfoy for rendering him speechless, or bitch out Ron and Hermione first? Harry shook his head, it was throbbing.

Malfoy had definitely hit him in there a couple times. _'I probably have a concussion…' _Harry thought. Yes... a concussion...it explained everything.

* * *

R&R! 

Feedback... good, or bad... is always appreciated!


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